


extras [1]

by Kneeshee



Series: Demon Baby [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Naruto, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Child Soldiers, Clan Politics, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mentions of Infertility, Mulan (1998) References, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:45:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kneeshee/pseuds/Kneeshee





	extras [1]

Jamila was an intimidating young woman. There was no doubt about it. She knew who she was. She knew what she wanted in life. She was used to being in control and expecting her every request to be follow with no complaints or mishaps.

 

And yet as dark eyes locked onto her own, Jamila could feel the reigns of control falling from her grasp. A slow smile spread across both of their faces and she relaxed into herself.

 

Her latest partner wasn’t someone she usually went for. Mainly because he had a dick and men brought issues. At least females understood the etiquette of one-night stands.

 

He crooked his finger in the “come here” motion while wearing a predatory grin. A shiver ran down her spine and she could only _imagine_ her dilated eyes. She took slow and careful steps towards him as he sat up on the bed.

 

As soon as she stood in front of him... he grabbed her hands and trailed his eyes over her body. He slowly, painfully stood and with every second, she could feel her control slipping further away. His hand caressed her face before he was pulling her towards him. His lips embraced her own and suddenly, she could feel the control again. A battle of dominance began between them.

 

His arms caged around her securing her in her place while her own wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to her. She could feel his thumbs rubbing circles into her skin before he stopped kissing her.

 

He trailed his lips over her neck nibbling and sucking at every passing turn. With every breathless moan that left her, she could feel the smugness radiating from him.

 

He pulled away from her slowly and she was too dignified to whine at the lost. She was the Heiress to the Demon Head... she was above such things.

 

He led her over to the bed before slowing lying her down. A smile lit up his face as he looked at her as she was something precious... something special. He didn’t see her as a weapon. He looked at her as if she was _human_.

 

She didn’t know what guilt felt like, but she was sure that was the ugly feeling in her chest. It made her regret ignoring him and blowing off and flaunting her sexual prowess with the females in the compound. She didn’t _do_ regret.

 

And yet, as he looked at her... she found that she didn’t necessarily mind.

 

His hands trailed her body before the inked tone of his eyes switched to bleeding red. A wicked smile crossed his features and she suppressed a shiver as best as she could.

 

It felt like she was stuck in a never-ending loop as he removed her clothes. The red of his eyes inspected every inch of her body as it was slowly uncovered. She could feel the heat from his skin.

 

Hell, they haven’t even done anything, but kiss and she was already mentally moving him up the list of her greatest sex partners. He should feel special. No male has ever made it.

 

She was laid out before him in all her glory and yet, he did nothing. He didn’t even _touch_ her. But he looked. Oh, he looked.

 

She stayed quiet as he removed his own clothing and she could feel her arousal leap to new heights at every each of skin that was being revealed. She took in the scars on his body and mentally nodded in approval. She will enjoy ravishing them.

 

A challenging smirk danced on both of their lips and it reminded her very much of their first meeting. It had been awhile before she had met an opponent that let her have so much fun while fighting. She wondered if he was going to bring that same fire and passion into their activities.

 

He covered her body with his and suddenly she feels almost drunk. This man is all she’s ever wanted in someone. Being allowed to be this way, to be dominated, to _hope_ that there can finally be something more is utterly intoxicating.

 

He leant in catching her mouth once again in his. She doesn’t even try to hide her moan at the contact of those soft lips on hers. She could feel her senses unlock and the tension fulling escaping her hold.

 

A small part of her hand always known she was gone for this man before her. She knew even as she tried overcompensating by her female lovers and yet she hadn’t met one that make her come undone like he.

 

She wants more. By the demon, she wants more.

 

“Jamila…” there is almost no sound in the movement of his lips against hers, but it sounds like a prayer in her head as she pours more of her desire into the kiss.  She is completely besotted at this point, when he slides his tongue into her mouth, licking along the roof of it and her own tongue.

 

Her body shakes as she wraps her limbs around her and curling her body into his form. She could feel his own shaking form as he held himself back and her mind screamed for him to get on with it. She needed this. She needed him.

 

“Jamila ―” It is almost a whisper, and he ducks his head to lick and suck under her jaw, down along his neck, feeling her rushed pulse under the press of his lips to her skin. “Let me…” His skin is hot under her palms and she presses herself almost impossibly close.

 

“Please, Jamila, let me love you.” He almost whines the last words; desire, love, and inexplicable need, filling her to the brim, threatening to spill over the edge, making her chest hurt and her fingers quiver. She would lay down her life for this beautiful man.  Her head spun from the emotions coming from him and the desire building up in herself.

 

He might take the number one spot of her greatest lover if he made her cum off just _words_.

 

“Shisui,” she manages to say, and she could feel the tremble he gave as she spoke his name in such a breathless whisper.

 

“I love you,” he says in the dip above Jamila’s collarbone, no longer able to hold all the emotions filling him at bay. It was too much for her.

 

No one had ever spoken to her in such away and she could sense the ecstasy crashing over her. It scared her how easily she gave in to him, but she found that didn’t care too much.

 

Finally, being able to let herself be submissive in such a way was cathartic.

 

She let out another involuntarily gasp as he finally entered her. In another world, she’d worry about infections and pregnancy, but she knew that neither could happen to her. Not with the legacy that she was born into.

 

She forces her eyes open (and when had they closed) to look at the still burning red eyes above her. A whimper built in the back her throat and a part of her couldn’t believe it, but the smile that crossed his beautiful face was much more important.

 

Jamila smiled softly, “I’d do anything for you.” And he responded by ducking his head to catch her nipple between his lips, brushes it lightly with the tip of his tongue and she almost loses it at the sensitivity there.

 

Her fingers run through Shisui’s hair as he moved his body in smooth motions. She could feel the telltale signs of another building orgasm and she didn’t even care as she took in the soft care, he gave her.

 

He wraps the fingers of both hands around her hips and they leave their marks on her tanned skin. He moves his hips in such a way that she jerks, gasps, drags at his hair, and Shisui does it again.

 

Jamila feels like she’s drowning; her whole awareness is full of Shisui, warm and straining and shaking under his touch.

 

They look up at each, she moans at the view before her. His mouth is slightly opened, and his eyes gleamed in the lowlight of the room. His throat moves with each gasp and she wants nothing more than to attack her lips and tongue and teeth to it.

 

She gets to see his stomach tensing when he holds his breath and suddenly stills for a fraction of a second before he comes undone, a low moan making its way out of his throat, and she moans in unison at the beautiful sight and she clenched down on top him. Her nails scratch against Shisui’s skull, and Jamila thinks if she is to choose one moment of her life to experience on an endless loop it would be this one.

 

They take a few minutes to themselves to breathe through the emotions in the air, the desire coursing their bodies before he is once again lying above her. She could feel him pressing against her backside and his lips poised at her ear.

 

“I’m going to fucking _wreck_ you, Princess.”

 

And honestly, there’s no better challenge than that.

 

—

 

An echoing sound of a crack filled the silence of the apartment. The scent of copper danced quietly in the atmosphere as droplets of blood splashed on the countertop and floors.

 

A choked sobbed escaped red coated lips as glowing greens eyes were hidden behind tightly squeezed eyelids.

 

Jamila couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t. Everything she ever worked for gone down the train in an instant. This shouldn’t have happened. She was _infertile_. Her _grandfather_ made sure of it.

 

And yet, she slowly opened her eyes to once again look at the white sticks littering her bathroom’s counter. All of them mocking her... confusing her... infuriating her. She was _pregnant_.

 

_Look at me_

_I will never pass for a perfect bride_

_Or a perfect daughter_

 

She knew she should’ve just stuck to female partners. But the council proclaimed that it was unbecoming behavior of the Demon Head’s Heiress. They hoped to marry her off to one of their foolish sons and either recreate the experiment that brought her to life or grant her a surrogate.

 

_Now I see_

_That if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family's heart_

 

A part of her felt sick at what this would mean for her. She would either be forced to quickly marry the father, or she would have to get rid of it.

 

Jamila found that she could do neither. She was a warrior. The Heir to the Demon. She was not going to reduce to a housewife. And the council was foolish if they thought that she would end the life growing inside of her. She was a strong advocate of Pro-Choice and she chooses to let this life blossom.

 

_Who is that girl I see_

_Staring straight, back at me_

_Why is my reflection someone I don't know_

 

She wiped at her face as she forced herself to think of a solution out of her situation. As the heiress, she would be given certain liberties. She could go on a year-long mission and only check in as much as necessary.

 

She could run and hide away until she gives birth. Then she could either give them child up for adoption or she could surrender the child to the League for forgiveness of her abandonment. (There was also the option of giving the child to its father and seeing as it is his fault she was in this predicament, well he can kiss her ass (Not that she minded, he knew how to put his mouth to good use).)

_Somehow I cannot hide_

_Who I am_

_Though I've tried_

Jamila was disgusted with herself. This was not like her. She would not punish her child for her shortcomings. Hell, she doesn’t even punish herself for her shortcomings. After all, it was only a result of her upbringing.

 

_When will my reflection show who I am inside_

_When will my reflection show who I am inside_

 

Jamila was about to play a dangerous game, and she will plan accordingly. She will send for her personal physician from the League soon.

 

She cast a glance around her surroundings. Then she would make her move to a country filled with corruption and political unrest. It would be a mission so she can request for her personal guard and extra foot-holders to be stationed.

 

She will wait until she was at least two months pregnant before informing her aunt and requesting another doctor be brought alongside her.

 

She had absolutely no plans of informing the father of her current predicament, but she began to mentally plan out a way to inform him in the case that she changes her mind. Her aunt told her that men are arrogant enough to demand that they be told of any potential heirs.

 

Jamila couldn’t understand this. If you cannot control yourself in the height of sexual ecstasy, then that is no one’s problem but your own. One cannot demand to be told of a child when they _knew_ that the result of a child was there. It was their own fault for not taking the liberties to prevent such happenings.

 

Even scum such as rapists shouldn’t be able to make such demands. Well personally Jamila believes they shouldn’t be able to live afterwards either but maybe it’s just her.

 

She shook her head. She had the beginning of a plan and she was going to follow it! She turned on her feet and began to pack the little possessions she brought to this particular residence.

 

No one defined her fate but her.  She was going to be the best damn mother to ever existence even if it means throwing away her heritage.

 

She was the Demon of Death.

 

The Daughter of the Famed Assassins Nyssa Raatko and Slade Wilson.

 

She was Jamila Al Ghul, and no one could stop her.


End file.
